Capture the Flag
by PinkSandals
Summary: Girls between the ages of ten and thirteen are disappearing. The team splits up to search for clues, but when too many kids go missing and they need to quit looking for them and start looking for who's responsible.
1. Gone in 20 Minutes

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI. Not feeling creative at the moment. DARN! Owning CSI would totally change that. Anyways…

…Her name is Samantha Stein, she's 11 years old. She's Caucasian and has brown eyes and blonde hair. She was last seen getting into a dark blue SUV in front of her school. She was wearing her school uniform, a green dress over a white blouse. If you see her call your local police…

A TV crackled in the break room, catching the attention of the occupants. A picture of Samantha Stein flashed up on screen. The picture was cropped but obviously in the background was some sort of family gathering captured by the photo of the little girl laughing and holding a pink flower to her nose. Catherine scoffed at the TV and muttered something about how 'parents need to keep an eye on their kids' and went to pour herself a cup of coffee. Sara and Warrick were the only others in the room. The girl's parents flashed onscreen and pleaded for their daughter's safe return. The mother broke down crying and leaned into her husband's arms. The CSI's were riveted to the television, the peril of the anguished parents penetrating their souls, encouraging them to help. Instantly, Nick came in looking at a sheet of paper. Without looking up, he said;

"Warrick and Catherine… you and me are on this case," he said, pointing to the TV with the assignment slip. The three left Sara in the break room to watch the rest of the report. Not two minutes after, another Amber Alert flared onto the TV.

"This is the second missing girl in twenty minutes, her name is Rosalyn Fielding, she's thirteen years old, Caucasian, brown hair and eyes. Last seen after school getting on the bus to downtown wearing jeans, runners, a white t shirt under a pink sweatshirt and a navy blue backpack…"

Sara perked up to this news. Was it a coincidence? Two Caucasian girls around the same age, just vanish within twenty minutes of each other? Coincidences were just a lazy excuse for similarities among differences. She stood up and rushed to find Grissom. In the hallway, she almost collided with Greg.

"Hey, Sara… we have the second missing girl. She only went missing an hour ago… we should get cracking," he said. Sara was preoccupied.

"I'm all for getting the girl home safe Greg, but… if they've been taken by the same person, we need to find that person… and she got onto a bus didn't she? How do we know where she ended up?" Sara said, just wondering aloud and not making much logical sense at all. Greg suggested again that maybe they should just get on it, and they left.

Grissom was in the layout room, with a map. He'd circled the two places the girls were last seen. They were within ten kilometers of each other. And the girls disappeared within twenty minutes of each other. Meaning, he thought, that the kidnapper could have just gone from one place to another. And there were only two main roads that directly linked the two places. He went to get the traffic tapes.

Sara's phone rang. She was in the car with Greg on her way to… she wasn't sure. She was kind of lost in how they'd find the girl. She picked up her phone. She didn't say hello or goodbye, or anything. When she hung up, she turned to Greg.

"Turn around, Greg," Sara whispered. He looked confused.

"What? Why… who was that?" He asked.

"Another girl disappeared. She was reported missing fifteen minutes ago. We need to find whoever is doing this. Protect more kids before they disappear too," Sara said, tonelessly. Greg nodded and made a U-turn to head back to the lab.


	2. Dark Blue

The entire team was gathered in the break room, watching the news. The third missing girl was Isabella Henley, aged ten. Catherine shook her head in disbelief.

"He's taking kids from school… it's three, they'll be roaming the streets," she thought out loud. The rest winced at the notion that whoever responsible was without a doubt out there right now. The only hope they had now were the traffic tapes. Thankfully, they narrowed down the possible streets to two, which significantly narrowed down the amount of surveillance-tape-watching they had to do. It was only a matter of time before a fourth went missing, then a fifth. They had to work fast. Plus, the children's parents were coming in for questioning and to provide samples of clothing for scent dogs.

Sara, Greg, Warrick and Brass were in the family room, with a full house of anguished parents. Brass collected the clothing for the scent dogs and left to take care of that matter. Which left Sara, Warrick and Greg with… a half-dozen parents who… really were in no shape for questioning.

Grissom, Catherine, and Nick were starting to go over the videos. Each person had their own TV screen and were tediously watching the surveillance.

"We're probably looking for a van… no windows for people to see in or out…" Catherine said, as she scanned each frame.

"Here…" Nick said. He zoomed in on a blue truck with no back windows, usually the kind plumbers or electricians drive. He couldn't really get a good shot of the driver. Grissom and Catherine rushed over and looked. Frowning, Catherine pointed to the passenger window.

"Someone's hand… on the window… there, you see it?" Catherine said. Nick zoomed in on the passenger. It could be a little girl, possibly with blonde hair, but the resolution was terrible. "I'd never let my daughter touch the window like that…" she added.

"Yeah, lemme enhance this…" Nick said. When he did, it looked like the girl was trying to escape.

"Print out this picture, get the license number… we need to find this truck." Grissom instructed.

Grissom interrupted the interrogation. He looked at the worried parents. Sara, who had been talking, looked eager to hear the news, as did everybody else.

"We may have a lead," Grissom said, breaking the silence. He held up the picture of the little girl, which was cropped to just her face, so that the parents didn't have to see the context of the picture, the hand desperately groping the window in failed escape efforts, until they had to. "Does anyone recognize this girl?" He asked.

"That's Sammy!" someone yelled. The CSI's spun around to see a desperate-looking blonde woman sitting at the back of the room, alone. "That's my daughter!" she exclaimed.

It was the right truck. Catherine rushed away to report the vehicle was definitely the one they needed to find.

"Yeah Brass? I've got an ID on the vehicle. It's a dark blue truck. License plate is XJR 313. A blue truck. Probably a Ford. Yeah, and it has no windows in the back. One of the mothers confirmed a picture we got of the passenger, it's her daughter Sam," she checked the sheet, "Samantha Stein," Catherine said. Her phone beeped. "Hey, Jim? I've gotta go, got a call on the other line," she said, quickly checking the caller ID, she answered it, "Hey mom…" she said nonchalantly. She half-listened to her mother babbling as she approached the front desk. Judy handed her a file, and she mouthed a 'thank you' as she continued on her way to her office. Suddenly she stopped. "WHAT?" she yelled, as people stopped and stared, wondering if she was okay. "No, mom… I'm working… of COURSE I DIDN'T!" Catherine explained feverishly, and nervously forgetting where she was heading. She stopped, turned around, and stopped again. She listened for a long time, then continued, "God, mom. You scared me shitless. She has a phone, you know. Okay… see you tonight," she said. Seeing the flustered looks of the hall occupants, she smiled and continued, opening the file Judy had handed her. She stopped.

The rest of the team was still in the family room, speaking with the parents. Catherine tried to edge in unnoticed, but was unsuccessful.

"Do you have an update? More news? Anything!" Cried someone's father when he saw her enter. Catherine's eyes met Grissom's as he looked over, like she was trying to tell him something. The parents were all waiting for her to say something.

"Tell us, what is it? Is it bad?" Someone else pleaded.

"A fourth girl has been reported missing," She announced. "Guys?" She said to the team, asking them to follow her. They left the parents alone, in shock and went into the layout room where they'd marked the disappearance of the previous girls on a map. She took a marker and put an X where the latest girl was last seen. The shape formed a jagged line, leading from a private school where Samantha Stein was taken to another school, a public one, where the other two were confirmed to have attended. "Her name is Joelle Shaw. She's eleven. A fourth grader at this school here…" Catherine pointed to another school, away from the other two. "He's changing direction, probably heard the broadcast for his truck." She observed. Nobody really knew what to do.

"I think we should get all the parents to just go home and wait. If this guy wants a ransom, he'll call them," Nick suggested. "Otherwise we have no leads…" which was true, because the rest of the team couldn't think of what else to possibly do until the guy made another move. Time was precious, but they had no leads.

"This whole thing seems just… so completely illogical. He's in the middle of the city, with police convoys everywhere, just snatching girls. He must have a house… or a business, perhaps a warehouse he's going to take them and hide his car…" Sara said. "Did anyone run his license plate?" She wondered. Everyone looked at each other.

"Nobody ran the license number?" Grissom asked in bewilderment.

"That was my job…" Catherine said, fuming at herself, realizing; "I was talking to Brass… then my mother called… she freaked me out about Lindsey… I completely forgot!" she said, ashamed.

"Catherine… " Grissom started. Everyone listened to see what he'd say. He opened his mouth to say something, then chose to say something else; "Do it now," he told her, and she left.

"The license doesn't exist… I'm thinking it's a fake plate… but I looked up owners of dark blue vans like that, I got 970 hits, 133 have rap sheets… who's gonna help me?" Catherine announced two minutes later, when she arrived, holding a thick stack of paper. They all sat down, and started comparing drivers license photos to the blurry cut-off picture they got of the driver from the surveillance tape.


	3. Thank God For Caller ID

A dozen police officers and a swat team surrounded the warehouse, guns at the ready. About one hundred feet away, there were ambulances and police cars along with a congregation of three officers keeping the dogs calm. The larger group of officers advanced on the warehouse, which was tattered and desolate. A dark blue van was parked behind it. Something was smoldering. Smoke was coming from the crudely-shaped chimney and ash flew around in the air, coating everything with a thin layer of secrets. It smelled like burning hair.

On a mark, they rushed in and cleared the area, very disappointed to find nothing inside the warehouse except packing peanuts littered around the floor. The officers looked at each other in discontentment. They hugged the walls. Someone had been there recently. Clothes were thrown about the floor, possibly once belonging to missing children. Everyone had to be careful. The clothes could provide all the necessary evidence to bring each child home safely, but there was also a possibility of it being a terribly well-thought-out deterrent.

* * *

Meanwhile, the team was looking through rap sheets. So far, the chances of finding one person responsible were pretty slim. They had hundreds of possible suspects. Finally, in rage, Catherine threw down the report she was looking at.

"We are never going to find him!" She sighed madly, resting her head in her hands. "He's obviously thought this out past the fact he knew we could trace him!" she exclaimed. "And now… he's disappeared," she added after a short pause. The rest of the team woke up from their coma of concentration and shifted in their seats. Catherine's phone rang. She looked at it, and with a sigh of impatience, returned it to her bag. "It's my mother… again…" she muttered. She massaged her face with her hands, trying to keep herself sane.

"Why don't you… answer her?" Grissom suggested cautiously, playing with a pen. Sara returned to scanning her reports. The rest were looking at Catherine. She finally realized she hadn't answered.

"Because," she started, "she called me not half an hour ago, telling me I forgot to tell her I picked up Lindsey, which I didn't… because my daughter was five minutes late getting home from school and my mother does not realize Lindsey has a carpool, and I got her a cell phone for her birthday. Then, two seconds after she calls me, Linds walks through the door and my mother hangs up without a thought that I might've just had a heart attack!" Catherine ranted. "And plus, now what? Dinner? I'm not going to be home for dinner! What could she possibly want?" Catherine added in question. Satisfied his question was answered, and scared of making her even more mad, Grissom smiled and returned to reading reports, along with everyone else. Catherine got up to get a coffee, but before she left the room her phone rang again. She verified the caller ID, and shoved her phone furiously back into her bag.

After a couple seconds, even Sara gave up, muttering something about going cross-eyed trying to read more. They had been working for two straight hours.

"What if this guy… doesn't have a rap sheet?" Sara suggested. Nobody wanted her to be right. There were eight times as many suspects if that were true. Finally, they all decided coffee was a good idea and got up.

* * *

Lindsey was begging her grandma to let her go. "Danielle is going too!" She insisted. "And it's only at school, it's only tonight!" Lindsey begged.

"Does your mother even know Mike?" Lily questioned her. Lindsey rolled her eyes. Lily was trying to call Catherine, to tell her. She was probably busy, she didn't pick up.

"Yes, mom's even MET him. And she's met his parents and Danielle's mom and grandfather. She knows them all. She'd let me go!" Lindsey insisted. Lily was hesitant. She tried call Catherine for a second time to verify. She didn't pick up, again.

"When's the game over?" She asked. Lindsey was excited of the possibility of permission.

"Danielle said around 8," Lindsey said eagerly, "and her mom is driving, I have my cell and you can call me anytime!" Lindsey said, trying to convince her grandma she'd be fine. Then, as her grandmother finally caved, she skipped out the door to meet Danielle and go to Mike's soccer game. Only this once.


	4. Unseen and Unknown

"Grissom" Grissom said tiredly as he picked up his phone. Hearing a reply, he woke up slightly and listened. "Really…." He said, pensive. He nodded and uh-huh'd and hung up.

Sara was in the break room, buried in files. Grissom entered, looked around, left, then returned. Sara looked up, annoyed at his distractive entrance. Grissom looked indecisive and looked around again, and stopped as if to tell his mind to pause for a moment so he could catch up on whatever he was thinking about.

"What…. Are you doing?" Sara asked, impatient. Grissom looked over, surprised, as if he hadn't seen her.

"I'm looking for….. she isn't here…. Have you seen Catherine?" Grissom asked very absently. He just realised what Sara was doing. "What are those?" He asked, pointing at the files.

"Oh, the seven hundred and some…. People who own a dark blue van and who don't have rap sheets….." Sara said matter-of-factly and as if it were really more fascinating than it appeared. "Oh, um… Catherine…." She remembered as Grissom turned to leave. "She got a 9-1-1 from Brass. A patrol car spotted the van outside a warehouse downtown, Warrick and Greg went with. There was apparently a potential crime scene." She said. Sensing his next question, she continued. "They let me stay and do a bit of light reading. And…. You were…. Where? Anyways… they were looking for you, but it was important, so…. They had to go." Sara informed him. Grissom left.

Nobody could find him! He felt very sneaky. He wouldn't let himself think about what he knew. Like, if he thought about it, someone would read his mind and for now this was between him and the surveillance tape.

Lindsey and Danielle met Mike at school and walked over the hill to the soccer field where the parents were illuminated on the bleachers by the super-bright fluorescent lights. It was dark. Dark and windy. They couldn't see much except the soccer field, and they tripped on roots one after another. As the trio got to the white lime line, Mike left with a good luck from the girls, and Lindsey sat on the edge of the far bleachers with Danielle. It was less windy there because the far corner of the school sheltered the blustery unseen monster. It was funny, most of the parents clustered near the concession. They had the spot to themselves.


	5. Burning

Brass ran towards the three CSI's panic stricken. The darkness illuminated the sparkling police cars, and the flashes of red and blue threw themselves across their faces.

"Patrol spotted the van parked there," Brass said, pointing and out of breath from running and general panic. "We cleared the warehouse, but something in there was burning-" he was going to say more, but decided not to assume any of the kids had met their fate yet. "You guys are clear to start processing," he said. Catherine, Greg, and Warrick all headed over to the warehouse.

Something had definitely been burning.

….

There was twenty minutes left in the game. Lindsey sat on her hands to keep them warm. The wind had really picked up and their secluded spot really didn't shelter them anymore. She turned to Danielle. "Wanna move?" She asked. Danielle shook her head 'no'. "Fine," Lindsey said. She paused and watched the game for a minute more. "I'm gonna go get a hot chocolate. Want one?" She asked. Danielle shook her head no, again. She was concentrated on the game. Lindsey hopped down from the bleachers and ran over to the concession as Mike got off shift, and ran exhausted to the bench. He waved to Lindsey, and she gave him the thumbs up. She lined up.

…………

Grissom knew he was on to something. He played and replayed the footage from the traffic camera. He was overjoyed with himself. He went to the computer and typed something, then leaned back while it searched some database.

……….

Sara may have been seeing things but she was almost positive she'd seen that name on another file. She looked at the pile she'd finished with. It was huge. She was sure it was near the beginning. She took the first three, and began rescanning.

………

Catherine, Warrick and Greg approached the bonfire, which was sputtering out. It seemed concentrated in a single spot. They knelt down to examine it. Catherine's phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. She didn't know who it was. She stood up to answer it.

"Willows," she paused, listening. She looked around outside, then ran to her car. Greg and Warrick were mildly confused. Suddenly, both their phones rang.


End file.
